


The God Spoke

by wolfiefics



Category: Alexander Trilogy - Mary Renault, Alexander the Great (2003) RPF
Genre: Amun - Freeform, Ancient Egypt, M/M, Oracles, Paganism, Siwah, gods speaking to lowly humans, no actual sex but there is a kiss, roughly the world of Mary Renault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 14:13:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17664173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: Alexander and his Companions come to the Oracle at the Siwah Oasis to speak with the great God. However, Hephastion gets more than he came for.





	The God Spoke

**Author's Note:**

> An ancient Greek mile* is about 1.8 of our miles, an _akaina_ is roughly 6 feet. _Podes_ is plural for a _pous_ , which is roughly one foot. The liturgy of the old priest is from the [Hymns of Amun](http://maat.sofiatopia.org/amun.htm#hymns), Chapters 100, 200 and 300 respectively for each chant. It was easier to get the chants off the website than to dig through my books to find it. If you pay close attention to the text of those chants and think metaphorically, you'll see a lot of parallels for Alexander there. For those who got confused by my basic run through of priestly hierarchy, go [here](http://www.philae.nu/akhet/Religion4.html) for a better explanation. I'm assuming some background of both Alexander and Egyptian society somewhat.

It had been a hard trek, harder than Hephaestion could have imagined. The heat was intense and the sand was treacherous. They'd already lost one packhorse to quicksand; it was the horse that carried grain for the other mounts. Through teamwork and quick thinking the men that accompanied Alexander managed to pull the grain bags off the floundering horse, but they'd been too late to save the animal. The poor beast's screams of terror as it sunk beneath the wet sand haunted Hephaestion's dreams for two nights in a row.

Desperate for water, the small group of pilgrims veered off course twice, certain they'd seen a lake in the distance only to discover it was a trick of desert demons. Their Egyptian guides warned them of such demonic happenings and after the second time, the pilgrims to the Temple of Amun at Siwah stopped looking for water except where the guides told them.

Hephaestion decided that if they reached Siwah alive, he was going to kill his king.

"Ahead, Pharaoh!" Pamiu, one of their guides, pointed. "Siwah grows nearer!" The man's Greek left a lot to be desired, Hephaestion thought, but at least he spoke it understandably. 

Hephaestion and the rest of the party squinted and saw rising in the distance an oasis surrounding tall pylons that unmistakably marked a temple complex. Alexander let out a whoop of joy and turned a gleeful look at Hephaestion. Hephaestion merely glowered at him, heartened by the signs of their destination, but unwilling to let Alexander off the hook for this folly. They'd come without proper provisions and guides that seemed more than a bit shady on knowing where they were going. Hephaestion smelled disaster as soon Alexander announced his intention to travel to the distant oracle.

Alexander's smile faded and he scowled in return. His attention, and mood, was diverted when Ptolemy nudged his mount next to his king's side. "Race you the last mile, Alexander."

Always game for sport, Alexander nodded eagerly. The two young men held back their horses until Nearchus judged the distance to be about a mile and then let the horses have their heads. The smell of water and grass spurred the mounts more than the encouragement of their riders and Hephaestion watched in bemusement as both Ptolemy and Alexander faded into specks.

Nearchus brought his grey stallion alongside Hephaestion's own roan and nodded in the direction of the temple. "Want to race too?"

Hephaestion shook his head. "I've better care for my horse than to run it into the ground. They'll be lucky if their own horses don't expire beneath them or they won't get them to stop until their muzzles are in water."

"Come on, Hephaestion," urged Nearchus teasingly. "You've been grumpy the entire trip. We've reached our destination, what more could go wrong?"

"Going back," Hephaestion replied sourly and he spurred his horse into a canter. The roan needed no urging and Hephaestion concentrated on keeping the horse from breaking into a run. The stallion too smelled water. In fact, all of the mounts had and the remainder of their tiresome journey was spent keeping the animals from bolting. One packhorse shot passed Hephaestion, it's lead rope flailing behind it as it ran for the trees and the scent of water.

Cursing, Hephaestion gave up and gave the roan his head. Unable to believe his luck, the stallion surged forward and quickly caught up to the packhorse, the two animals pacing each other. Hephaestion felt a moment's exhilaration before common sense took over. He leaned over to snag the packhorse's lead rope and slowed both animals down with great difficulty. By the time he and the rest of the party arrived at the Siwah Oasis, Ptolemy and Alexander were lounging under a palm tree, grinning stupidly at each other and arguing good-naturedly over who won the race.

"You let me win," rebuked Alexander mildly.

"As if I needed too," replied Ptolemy in a bored tone. The twinkle in his brown-green eyes belied the tone of his voice though. Ptolemy was enjoying ribbing his king.

"I know you did," Alexander stated unequivocally. He turned to Hephaestion. "Didn't he, Hephaestion?"

'Like I know,' Hephaestion thought sourly. "I'm sure he did not, Alexander. We know better than to 'let you' do anything. It's not worth it to you unless you have to fight every step of the way." The words meant to come out light, but instead his tension and exhaustion made his voice biting and cold.

Alexander scowled at him again while everyone just stared at him in surprise. Hephaestion sighed and turned his attention to caring for his stallion and the packhorse he caught. He pulled the blankets and packs off the animals and, using a soft cloth, rubbed the animals down using water from the spring. He watched their water intake, allowing the horses a little at a time until he judged it safe for them to indulge fully in drinking the sweet, clear liquid.

"Great Pharaoh." Pamiu bowed low to Alexander, motioning toward the shadowed doorway of the temple. A procession was slowly exiting, priests with shaven heads and starched linen garments adorned with talismans and amulets of precious stones and metals marching slowly from the cool interior of the limestone building.

Alexander strode confidently toward the impressive display of priests and stopped just a few _podes_ from them. "I am Alexander, King of Macedon and Pharaoh of Egypt. I have come to speak with the great Oracle and the blessed god Amun-Zeus."

The priests watched him with unblinking gazes and none replied. Hephaestion and the others of Alexander's Companions joined their king, standing just behind him and waited. The gathering stood so for sometime, the heat beating down upon them. Sweat trickled down the Macedonians' necks while the priests seemed completely unruffled by the sun's power.

"As blessed thee to come to us, Pharaoh." An elderly priest at the front of the line spoke, his voice craggy and his face heavily lined.

"Who is As?" whispered Perdiccas to Ptolemy.

"I think it's a desert god, but I'm not sure," Ptolemy whispered back. Alexander turned and glared at them into silence.

"Set brought trials upon you to test your strength, it was told to us, but As guided you to the haven of his brother." The priest's voice grated on Hephaestion's nerves. Alexander said nothing, but merely continued staring at the priests. "Why do you come to the oracle of the Great God?"

There was a tense silence. Hephaestion thought that the priest was a bit impertinent to be asking a king, a Pharaoh, what he was doing, but refrained from saying so. Who knew the reasonings behind the thoughts of Egyptians?

"I come to speak with Amun-Zeus on a personal matter that only he and I will be privy too," Alexander finally answered, giving defiant toss of his blonde head. 

The old priest gave what could only be described as a smirk and then bowed low. "Very well. Enter the home of the Great God but know this: the answer you seek may not be the answer you receive."

Alexander took a step forward and then hesitated, turning to look at his Companions, as if to invite them to join him. The priest spoke again.

"The Great God will speak only to you, Alexander, son of Philip, King of Macedon." Hephaestion noted that the priest left out the fact that Alexander was Pharaoh, or would be crowned so on their return to Memphis. He knew Alexander noted it too, for he gave the priest a harsh look as he stepped through their entourage and into the cool shade of the inner temple.  
*** 

Hephaestion's tension mounted with each passing moment. It seemed like hours though it only had to be twenty or thirty minutes before Alexander exited. The confident stride was less sure and the expression of success now somber, Hephaestion noticed. Alexander stepped back through the entourage and was almost to Hephaestion's side when the priest spoke again.

"Did Alexander, son of Philip, King of Macedon, receive the answer he wished?" The tone was almost mocking.

Alexander froze and then turned slowly. "Yes. Alexander, son of Amun-Zeus, King of Macedon, Persia and Egypt, received the answer he wished."

The entire group, Macedonian and Egyptian, seemed suspended in time. Hephaestion almost couldn't breath. Did Alexander just declare that Philip was not his father? That a god was his father? One word echoed like a bell's gong in his mind: hubris.

As one, the priests fell to their knees and their heads grazed the sandy ground. A liturgy rose from their throats, disturbing the silence in a loud cacophony of noise that irritated Hephaestion more than the priest's mocking tones had. With a smirk that the priests didn't see, Alexander strode back to their encampment, his Macedonians comrades in tow. Hephaestion chanced a look back at the priests and found the old one staring directly at him. He suppressed the shiver that ran down his spine.

"What in the name of Hera was _that_ about?" demanded Perdiccas as soon as they were out of earshot of the priests. 

"The son of Zeus? Are you mad, Alexander?" Ptolemy chimed, equally as angry. "You don't just declare that outloud to all and asunder! They'll crucify you!"

"I was just putting the old fool in his place," Alexander told them soothingly, though Hephaestion couldn't tell from the tone if Alexander believed it himself. They'd argued about the idea enough, he and Alexander. "The place...it's a hoax." He sighed in heavy disappointment. "You write your question on a piece of paper, shove it into this niche and receive an answer the same way. I heard the scratch of the stylos of whoever answers on the other side."

"So what was your question?" grinned Nearchus, recovering his good humor.

"If I was to be crowned Pharaoh."

"Well, mother's tits, Alexander, you already _know_ that," laughed Ptolemy. "Why didn't you ask a real question?"

Alexander took a water skin from Perdiccas and took a swig before answering. "Because I wanted to make sure. I was hoping to learn something more."

"More?" asked Nearchus blankly.

Alexander nodded. "You know what my mother says. That she coupled with Zeus? I wanted to know if it was true." Everyone digested this bit of information, even though they knew it had been the original intention of Alexander's journey. That and to escape the pressures of being king for even a short time.

"But the oracle told you nothing." Hephaestion was disgusted. "I told you the place was fake. Why would they put themselves way out here? All other oracles of any importance are where people can reach them." 

Alexander frowned at him. "You've been bitching like an old woman the whole trip. Everyone knows the Oracle at the Temple of Amun-Zeus is holy and respected. What's wrong with you?"

Hephaestion turned away, not having an easy answer to give Alexander and the complicated one he did have he wasn't willing to toss out. It would just start a fight and he was too tired and too hot to bother. 

Camp was finished being set up. It was decided they would stay a couple of days to enjoy the exotic oasis before trekking back to the Nile valley and the tumult of ceremonies honoring Alexander as Pharaoh. A meal of dried fruits, bread, watered down wine, and dried antelope jerky accompanied friendly conversation, lively debates and good companionship. 

Ptolemy sat next to Hephaestion as they ate their meager but appreciated fare. Hephaestion had purposefully sat away from Alexander, knowing that if his king started nagging him, he'd lose his temper and start a fight. The two men tore at their hard bread in companionable silence before Ptolemy spoke.

"At least we're together."

"I suppose."

Ptolemy nudged Hephaestion's arm playfully. "Come on. All of us on a journey. No army, no wives or mistresses. No pages following Alexander around like lost puppies. We've known each other since childhood. Doesn't it feel good to get away from that monster army that follows us, even for a moment?"

"Yes, I've always wanted to die in the desert for no apparent reason."

Ptolemy frowned at his wine goblet. "You know, you're a real pisser sometimes. Relax, enjoy our company, for Apollo's sake. We might not get much chance to do so in the future, without the politics of army life marring it. Just pretend we're waiting on Aristotle to come in and bore us to tears."

Hephaestion laughed as Ptolemy intended. "The master's lecture did get a bit ... long-winded," he conceded.

Ptolemy snorted. "Long-winded like Cleitus' ass." Both of them laughed at that. They ate a bit more in companionable silence before Ptolemy spoke again. "Do you think Alexander came here just to confirm his divine birth?"

"You know Alexander," sighed Hephaestion. "He takes religion very seriously."

"Yes," the older man agreed with a tiny frown. "A bit too seriously. His mother put him to that."

"I'm not saying religion is bad, Ptolemy," Hephaestion sighed in agitation, "but by Hera, he'd worship a turd if someone told him a god shit it." 

There was a long moment of silence and then Ptolemy began laughing so hard he almost rolled into the campfire. Everyone was staring at them in curiosity and the perplexed look on Alexander's face did Hephaestion in. He too began to laugh, leaning onto a helpless Ptolemy, who was desperately dragging in air between bouts of laughter.

"Well, whatever stick that was up Hephaestion's ass has now been removed," remarked Leonnatus.

"About damned time," muttered Lysimachus, who was sitting next to Alexander. 

Alexander just stared across the flames at his two friends who were still laughing uncontrollably. "What's so funny?"

Ptolemy burst into laughter once again and Hephaestion could only wave a hand dismissively in Alexander's direction helplessly. "N-nothing, Alexander," Hephaestion panted, still giggling. "The wine, it made us goofy."

Alexander frowned at his wine and then turned to Lysimachus. "Did you put something in their wine that you aren't sharing?"

As Lysimachus had poured the wine, he too looked at his own goblet and shrugged. "It wasn't me. Must be them." He motioned at the two laughing fiends on the other side of the fire. 

Alexander got up and walked around the fire. He nudged both Ptolemy and Hephaestion with a sandaled foot, staring at them in total perplexion. "What's so funny?"

Ptolemy was the one who managed an answer. "We were thinking of Aristotle and Hephaestion told a joke and -" He giggled. Alexander didn't think he'd ever heard Ptolemy giggle. "Well, it was funny at the time, but it won't be if repeated." The two men grinned stupidly at each other as they exchanged glances.

Alexander rolled his eyes. "To Aristotle and jokes that come in the night." He raised his goblet, as did the others. "It brought Hephaestion out of whatever fit of sullens he's been mired in since Memphis." The toast was drunk to and Hephaestion grunted, occasionally sharing a grin with Ptolemy for the rest of the evening. 

It wasn't until well passed moon rise that the friends turned in, having spent their evening drinking watered wine and telling stories that couldn't possibly be true, like the story of Bucephalus eating Alexander's enemies at Chaeronea or Leonnatus' number of mistress (which he claimed were more numerous than Philip's but everyone knew Leonnatus was a prig so that couldn't be right). They spoke of women, men, affairs, dreams, battles and how much wine they could consume without passing out.

Finally they'd all had enough of trying to think up lies, plausible and implausible, and rolled their pallets around the campfire. It had been an exhausting day, fraught with weariness, doubt and heat. They would be refreshed in the morning and Nearchus suggested foot races and wrestling in honor of Alexander's newly discovered divine lineage. This earned hearty laughs and agreements. 

Hephaestion curled into his pallet, staring up at the stars. They had foregone tents, opting to travel light. Still not feeling too sociable, Hephaestion unrolled his pallet away from the others. Besides, Nearchus snored like four raging bulls and Ptolemy talked in his sleep.

"You're still angry with me?" Alexander's voice whispered in Hephaestion's left ear.

Hephaestion rose and turned to find himself nose to nose with his king. "No," he sighed, "just tired and cranky."

"Well, I noticed your cranky disposition but there's something else." Alexander unrolled his own pallet next to Hephaestion's. "You weren't keen on this trip from the beginning and your disapproval grew each mile we traveled. Why?"

Hephaestion pondered his words and then mentally shrugged. Alexander expected the truth from him and he always got it; why mince words now? "Because it's stupid. There was no point to this journey, except to satisfy your curiosity."

"And?"

"What makes you think there is an 'and'?"

"That question." Alexander stretched beneath the light blanket and stacked his hands behind his head, elevating it so he could look up at Hephaestion without getting too much of a crick in his neck.

Hephaestion sighed once more and threw himself down on his own pallet. "It was a decision poorly made and poorly executed," he complained.

"True, I hadn't expected that we'd have so little opportunities to fill up on water," conceded Alexander after a moment, "but that's not what is bothering you."

It wasn't, Hephaestion agreed silently, but unfortunately he did not have answer to what *was* bothering him. "I didn't want to come."

"So why did you?"

"Are you going to vex me all night?" Hephaestion asked peevishly.

"I will until you give me an answer," Alexander replied calmly.

"I don't know the answer to your question, Alexander, I just didn't want to come. I saw no point to it. It was a wasted effort that could easily have killed us all." Hephaestion blew air harshly between his lips. "This place makes me uneasy," he added. "Egypt makes me uneasy."

"Ah." Alexander leaned over and pecked him a kiss on his unshaven cheek. "I'm glad you came all the same."

Hephaestion only grunted a reply, closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Morning broke too soon for all of them. Grumbling in morning irritation, the Companions and their king rinsed off the evening's sweat and ate a light breakfast. It was decided that the late afternoon would be the ideal time to give the gifts they'd brought in offering. They would take advantage of the coolness of morning for their games.

Hephaestion, Ptolemy, Alexander, Nearchus, Perdiccas, and Leonnatus ran the footrace, with Lysimachus as the judge. Running had never been Alexander's best event, being shorter of leg than most of his friends but he managed to outrun all but Perdiccas and Hephaestion, who hit the finish line at the same time. Out of breath and sweating profusely the men cooled off before drinking a goodly amount of water. Once refreshed, Perdiccas suggested a race between he and Hephaestion alone to determine a true winner. Shrugging, Hephaestion agreed. 

"To the first pylon and back," commanded Alexander. 

The two soldiers readied themselves and when Alexander shouted, "Go!" they took off like streaks of lightning. Both ignored the catcalls and encouragement of their fellows-in-arms, concentrating instead on their breathing and the uneven terrain before them. Both slammed a hand on the pylon that was their halfway point and turned at the same time, creating raucous cries from their friends as they sprinted for the finish line.

Hephaestion waited until he was a couple of _akaina_ from the line drawn in the sand before he put on a last burst of speed, pulling himself a couple of steps ahead of a panting Perdiccas. Cheers buffeted his ears and Hephaestion turned to see Perdiccas laughing and shaking his head. "You held out on me!" Perdiccas accused good-naturedly. Hephaestion only grinned.

As lots were drawn on who would wrestle first, Hephaestion looked around them, admiring the beauty of the oasis more now that he was relaxed and feeling good about the world in general. His smile slipped when he spied the old priest standing beneath a shady tree, staring at him with an unfathomable look upon his face. Without a word or gesture, the priest turned away and headed back to the temple. Hephaestion shook himself mentally, consigned the incident to Hades where it belonged and returned his attention to his friends and their antics.

Since Hephaestion won the foot race, he declined to wrestle, as did Perdiccas. Instead they served as referees for other participants. Alexander bested Nearchus and Lysimachus. He almost bested Ptolemy until he made some comment that since Ptolemy threw the horse race he should throw the wrestling match as well. Ptolemy pounded him good-naturedly into the ground shortly thereafter. 

It came down to Ptolemy and Leonnatus at the end, but it didn't really matter. Leonnatus accidentally bit Ptolemy's hand as they grappled. Ptolemy yelped and reported the offense in an outraged tone of voice. Deciding that the whole thing was pointless now, Alexander launched himself onto the two of them, followed by the rest, and soon it became a good-natured free-for-all that wound up with all of them laughing and sweating, rolling in the sand and dust, filthy as they could get.

Finished with their horseplay, the Companions and their king rinsed the sweat and dirt off once again, dressed in more appropriate attire and gathered their tribute to the temple. Hephaestion was disconcerted to find the priests already gathered in their robes and adornments outside the main doorway of the temple. Did they have spies watching the Macedonians every move?

Alexander dropped his chest of gold objects in front of the priests and opened it without a word. Ptolemy heaved two heavy sacks of various herbs and spices next to it, also silent. Each man in turn left offerings of spices, cloth, precious metals and stones, never speaking a word, their heads bowed in appropriate reverence. The oracle might be a fake, as Alexander disappointedly declared, but it was still a temple and the home of a god. 

Once the offerings were complete, the Pure Ones, or lesser priests, gathered the items and silently carried them into the dark interior. Time seemed frozen to Hephaestion, until a lector priest raised his head and began to sing. Hephaestion, like the others, was startled for the priest sung not in Egyptian, but in Greek, so that they could understand him.

"The One who initiated existence on the first occasion, Amun, who developed in the beginning, whose origin is unknown. No other god was with Him who could say what He looked like. He had no mother who created His name. He had no father to beget Him or to say: 'This belongs to me.' Who formed His own egg. Power of secret birth, who created His beauty. Most Divine God, who came into being Alone. Every god came into being since He began Himself."

The assembly remained silent. Hephaestion dared a glance at Alexander and was alarmed to see an entranced look on Alexander's face.

"None of the gods knows His true form. His image is not unfolded in the papyrus rolls. Nothing certain is testified about Him. He is too secretive for His Majesty to be revealed, He is too great to be enquired after, too powerful to be known. People immediately fall face to face into death when His Name is uttered knowingly or unknowingly. There is no god able to invoke Him by it. He is Soul-like, hidden of name, like His Secrecy."

Hephaestion watched in rapt fascination at the myriad of expressions that flitted across Alexander's face. At first it was stunned disbelief, mirroring those around him as the priest began to sing in Greek. Disbelief was followed by interest, quickly followed by a mixture of something unknown and divine with what Hephaestion could only call elation. It took Hephaestion a moment to realize what that unnamed emotion was and when he did, the hair stood on the back of his head: fear. What was here that Alexander feared? 

The priest's next words drew Hephaestion's attention away from his king and back to the priest. He was completely disconcerted to find the priest staring directly at him.

"Everything that comes from His mouth, the gods are bound by it, according to what has been decreed. When a message is sent, it is for killing or for giving life. Life and death depend on Him for everyone, except for Him, Amun, together with Re, and Ptah: a total, three."

The priest's liturgy ended and the procession of priests began to file slowly back to their limestone home. The silence was maintained until the white robes of the priests vanished into the inky darkness of the temple. 

"What was that?" whispered Perdiccas in a shaking voice.

"The god spoke through him," murmured Alexander, his voice hoarse.

"What?" Leonnatus tried to laugh it off, but his voice sounded squeaky instead.

"The god knew I was mocking him yesterday and he was warning me." Alexander stood up. It was then that they realized they'd fallen to their knees in supplication. Without another word, Alexander followed the priests into the temple.

"Alexander, what are -” Hephaestion stepped forward to go after him, but Ptolemy snagged his arm.

"Don't."

"But -"

"Just don't. I don't know why, but don't go after him." Ptolemy's hazel eyes were staring intently upward and Hephaestion followed his friend's gaze. 

There, etched and painted on the temple's outside walls, were the gods. Was it Hephaestion's imagination or did the god Amun seem to stare at them reproachfully? The group took three paces back and their hands rested on their sword handles, battle instincts screaming warning for an attack that never came. 

Finally, Alexander came out of the temple for the second time in two days. This time he was shaken to the bone, his walk unsteady and his eyes slightly unfocused. Hephaestion ran up to him and threw an arm around Alexander's waist to help hold him up. It was none too soon, for at that time Alexander's knees buckled.

"What? What happened?" demanded Hephaestion tersely. Alexander only shook his head mutely. 

"Are you injured?" demanded Ptolemy, placing himself protectively behind Hephaestion and Alexander as if to ward off an attack from behind. Their instincts still screamed warning but it was less urgent than before.

"No," Alexander whispered and Hephaestion gasped as his king unconsciously sagged in his arms.

They carried Alexander quickly to camp, muttering to themselves about treachery and fretting over Alexander's lack of response to being awoken. Cheeks slapped and water poured on his face did not rouse their king and their concerns grew when Alexander began to thrash mutely for a ten-minute period before settling down. It was as if he had fever but he showed none of the signs.

Darkness fell and Alexander finally woke. "I'm fine," was all he would say as everyone crowded around and waited on him anxiously hand and foot. "I said I'm fine, by the Gods!" he roared when Nearchus tucked a blanket about his chest. He threw the blanket off in irritation. "The oracle..." His voice trailed off and Alexander seemed to mentally shake himself. "I was wrong."

"You were wrong about what?" asked Leonnatus dumbly.

Hephaestion threw him a disgusted look. "That it's not a fake, you fool. Isn't it obvious? You think walking into the shade would cause Alexander to become so weak?" Leonnatus opened his mouth to reply but thought better of it.

"We're leaving at dawn." Ptolemy's tone brooked no argument and no one offered any. As far as Hephaestion was concerned, it wasn't soon enough but he could see Alexander was still physically shaken by whatever had been revealed to him in the inner depths of the temple. He needed rest before they trekked back to Memphis.

"Yes. Dawn." Alexander rolled over on his pallet, his back to them, and went to sleep. Everyone followed suit, but only Alexander didn't sleep with his sword in hand.

Hephaestion jerked awake, with the stars still twinkling down at him from the heavens. He listened for whatever awoke him. Out of necessity's sake, he'd moved his and Alexander's pallets back with the group. He could hear the rattling snores of Nearchus and he swore he heard Ptolemy order Thais to get her hand off his thigh. Hephaestion listened for noises that weren't normal but heard nothing. Night birds chirped in the trees and a slight breeze whistled complacently around them. The world was peaceful...

...or was it?

Hephaestion rolled off his pallet in an instant, his sword resting easily in his grip, facing to the east, squinting into the darkness. A white blur moved forward and Hephaestion recognized the figure of the old priest stepping from the deep shadows of the trees. With one wizened hand, the priest made a come-hither gesture to him.

Hephaestion scowled at the man, wishing him to Hades, but the old man merely continue to motion for Hephaestion to join him. Hephaestion quietly rose, compelled for a reason he could not determine to obey the summons; but he would do it on his terms. He picked up his belt and scabbard, sliding the sword into it's sheath as silently as possible. His feet sank into the sandy soil as he walked to the priest.

The priest bowed respectfully and silently led the way up the slope to the limestone building. They were about twenty steps from the large open doorway when the priest stopped and looked up to the painted reliefs on the outer walls. "You are Hephaestion."

"Yes." Hephaestion answered, even though it hadn't really been a question.

"Alexander, son of Philip, King of Macedon, loves you above all others."

"I suppose." The priest gave Hephaestion a hard look. "That's what he tells me, so yes."

Satisfied, the priest began walking again. Puzzled Hephaestion followed, still against his better judgment, and the two entered the temple.

Torches alit with bright orange flames flickered shadows along the passageway. It was an eerie and wholly terrifying place to Hephaestion's mind; this had to be what the corridor that led to Acheron, the first river of Hades, looked like: dark and foreboding. Just as his mind was ready to command his feet to turn around and get out of there as quickly as possible, his eyes caught a glimpse of gold and red. Hephaestion looked at the wall relief closer and found a figure, kneeling and offering a tray of wine and fruit to a ram-headed figure. Transfixed, Hephaestion stepped closer; the priest stopped to watch him.

Hephaestion moved to the next relief. Women and men kneeled before someone wearing the double crowns of Egypt. They seemed to be enslaved, perhaps prisoners but in the darkness and flickering light it was hard for Hephaestion to tell. "Who is this?" Hephaestion gestured to the crowned figure. 

"Pharaoh," answered the priest as if it were an obvious answer.

'Of course it's Pharaoh,' Hephaestion thought, 'but which one?' He paused. Maybe it represented all of them.

He moved further down, sidestepping a couple of wall-mounted torches, looking at each relief as he went. Pharaohs and gods in various positions of offerings, meeting subjects or supplicants, or other activities that Hephaestion didn't recognize but seemed to be the main themes of each piece. The strange pictographic writing on the wall meant nothing to Hephaestion and he was loath to break the silence by asking for interpretations.

"Come. The Great God wishes to speak to you."

Startled, Hephaestion turned his attention from the walls and followed the priests further into the temple's depths. The priest waved a negligent hand to a chamber that they passed by. "This is where the Great God receives guests. You will see him here."

"I will _see_ him?" Hephaestion asked in a loud, startled voice. He stopped dead on the spot. "I wish to see no god. It's...” He didn't know what it was but impious topped the list he was sure.

"As the god requested." The priest looked old but his grip was surprisingly strong and firm as any youth's. Hephaestion didn't think he could have broken that grip if he tried. Dumbly, he was led into a large chamber. In the center stood a golden statue, painted and adorned as if it were a living person. Behind it a barque stood, a sort of wooden palanquin with gilt and precious ornamentation.

He was in the _naos_ , the god's personal chamber. Hephaestion's knees buckled and he fell to the floor, his forehead hitting the polished marble tiles in immediate supplication. He didn't know what to say and didn't have the voice to say it in any event. One thought burned in his mind and in his heart: _what am I doing here?_

_**He who comes with my son, rise, and offer obeisance to me.** _

Hephaestion did as he was told, the words not spoken out loud but reverberating in his head. His vision was dark, as if he was blind, and he blinked, trying to regain his sight. As soon as he was upright, he crouched down in obeisance once more, hopeful that he did it right. Angering a god that could blind you and speak in your mind could not be the most intelligent thing to do and Hephaestion didn't think the god excused one's bad manners with ignorance of propriety.

_**You will be his downfall.** _

Hephaestion's heart lurched.

_**You will be his salvation.** _

It sounded more promising, that last comment, but still very ominous.

_**Follow him, guide him, and you will be rewarded beyond your station.** _

What did that mean? Hephaestion wasn't sure but he nodded that he heard the words and would try to understand them.

_**You are Ptah, the craftsman, the builder. My son is Re, the shining sun, the creator. Together you will defeat Apophis, the serpent of the night, and birth a new world of light.** _

Hephaestion nodded again, not having a clue what the god was saying at the moment. Perhaps he would understand later.

_**He is my son. His will shall be obeyed.** _

Something compelled Hephaestion to whisper "yes" and suddenly he was blinded again, but this time by a dazzling light. The rising sun in the east filtered through a special hole in the ceiling, bouncing off the gold and gilt of the god's statue, flooding the room with a painful light. Much time had passed though it only seemed like a few minutes. Hephaestion understood that the god's presence had left. He stood shakily to his feet and looked for the priest.

"The Great God speaks directly to very few." The comment seemed obvious to Hephaestion and the priest smiled. "He did not speak directly to your king, but He spoke to you."

Hephaestion felt his nerve leave him. The urge to go relieve himself somewhere was strong. How many battles had he fought? How many swords did his sword clash with? How many men tried to kill him and he himself sent to Hades? Never once did he feel the urge to piss himself.

But then, a god had never spoken to him before either. If that wasn't a good enough reason to piss yourself, Hephaestion honestly didn't know what was.

"The feeling will pass," the priest told him encouragingly.

"If the god did not speak with Alexander, why did he come from this temple yesterday so ..." Hephaestion searched for a description. "Shaken," he finished lamely.

"Oh, he received message from the Great God, just not the way you did," chuckled the priest, leading Hephaestion from the _naos_.

"Why did the Great God speak to me so?" Hephaestion asked, glad the priest was leaving the inner sanctuary. He wanted as far from this place as he could get. Light was seeping into the corners of the corridor they walked down and the priest led Hephaestion not outside to the oasis but to a small chamber with a table and chairs.

The priest levied himself into a chair with a weary sigh and motioned for Hephaestion to sit opposite him. As Hephaestion settled himself the priest spoke. "I do not pretend, my lord, to understand the workings of the divine, though I am a Servant of the God. When I was first a Pure One and later a lector priest, I had musings of thinking I understood, but as time passes, I realize I know nothing at all. If the Great Ones wish to reveal things to us, they will do so. If not, we must just muddle through our lives as best we can and worry not about how the Great Ones guide us."

"But if we pray to the gods ... Great Ones, how do they know what we desire?" Hephaestion asked, taking a date from the offered bowl of fruit.

"You assume the Great Ones care for our desires," answered the old man, pawing through the fruit for an apricot. "Never do such a thing, my lord, for it will only bring misery."

Hephaestion was aghast. "How can you say such blasphemy?"

The priest laughed. "'It is not blasphemy, my lord, but experience. The Great Ones, they have their ways, their plans, and rarely do the desires and wishes of lesser beings matter to them. We are but playthings, objects on a senet board to be pushed around to the final tile. We hit the sands and are pushed back a few paces. The water blocks our path so we find another route. With each move we make, the Great Ones have already determined it far in advanced and have maneuvered us there. They know all, see all, and contrived to make all."

Hephaestion considered this. It was a basic, fundamental belief in how the gods existed with man, but to hear it stated so bluntly, so matter-of-factly was uncomfortable. Hephaestion was used to such things being said coated with pretty words and witty turns of phrases.

"Did you hear what the Great God said to me?" he asked softly.

"No, and you cannot tell me." The priest seemed unconcerned at not having such knowledge, instead pouring them both two goblets of watered wine. He handed one to Hephaestion and sipped from his own before speaking again. "You may ask me questions to clarify in your mind the words of the Great God, however, if you wish."

Hephaestion was relieved. "Thank you." He paused, trying to decide which one to ask first. Truthfully, there wasn't much he could ask without revealing the god's words. "Who, or what, is Apophis?"

The old priest raised two eyebrows that had grown into one, a grizzled snarl of white and silver hair that was more than plenty to make up for his shaven crown. "Apophis is the serpent that the god Re defeats every evening as his barque travels from one end of the world to rise in the east the next morning. You know Re?"

Hephaestion nodded. "Yes, the sun god."

"Ah, He is much more than that, young lord, much more than that, but it is enough for you to understand for now." The priest sipped from his cup.

"Ptah, the builder, he is important to Re?"

Again the unibrow rose in surprise. "He is important in all things, young lord." The priest sighed. "You are ignorant."

Hephaestion bristled. "I am a learned man -" he began hotly but the priest waved him into silence.

"I did not mean to say you are stupid, hothead, only that you are ignorant of this land that your king will now rule. You cannot rule what you do not understand and you understand it not at all. You will not remain, I would wager my position, long enough to understand." The priest considered a moment and got up to pace, his joints creaking painfully as he moved.

"Ptah is the god of craftsmen and of builders. They say He created the world on his potter's wheel. Surely you saw his temple when you were in Memphis, his home city?" Hephaestion nodded. It had been most impressive. "Without Ptah, we cannot even care for our dead, for it is his tools that allow us to practice the sacred art of mummification. He builds our roads, our cities, our bridges and our homes. His art is essential to our life. Without it, we are but dwellers of sand."

_He builds our roads, our cities, our bridges and our homes._ The priest's words echoed in Hephaestion's ears. The Great God had said that he, Hephaestion, was Alexander's Ptah, his builder. That was his purpose at Alexander's side but he would build more than that. _**Follow him, guide him, and you will be rewarded beyond your station.**_ Hephaestion cared not for reward but he would follow and guide Alexander as needed, and help him _**birth a new world of light.**_

Build* a new world...it all fit, clicking into place like metal links in a chain. The Great God's words and meaning was suddenly clear. Hephaestion was Alexander's companion, his support. Together the two of them, the fighter of darkness would build with his builder a new world, a new dawn. Hephaestion felt heady and light at the thoughts in his mind. His body suddenly seemed unburdened from a burden he did not know he bore. Energy suffused him and an odd happy feeling flooded his very being.

"Ptah built Re's barque that carries him on his nightly journeys?" Hephaestion asked, desperate for confirmation of this revelation.

The old Servant of the God smiled a secretive smile. "Perhaps, yes."

Hephaestion stood up so quickly his chair rocked. "Thank you, revered one." Hephaestion bent a knee in reverence of the old priest and his wisdom. "A thousand times I thank you."

"It was nothing, young lord. Be at peace and may the Great God make your travel back to the Black Lands untroubled." Hephaestion felt the amused stare of the priest on his back as he rushed elated from the room but he cared not. He stopped once before entering the bright light of the sun, at a relief portrait of Amun. Not knowing how to properly thank an Egyptian god, he murmured a quick thank you prayer in Greek, and bowed respectfully.

The horses were packed and everyone was pacing agitatedly on the slope below the entrance to the temple. Alexander looked angry enough to spit rocks. "Where have you been?" he demanded as soon as Hephaestion was close enough to be shouted at.

"Getting educated." Hephaestion vaulted onto his mount and turned the roan's head back toward the Nile Valley. "Shall we go?"

"You haven't eaten yet!" protested Alexander, placing a hand worriedly on Hephaestion's leg.

"I ate with the old priest. We ... were discussing matters of religion." Hephaestion looked up at the reliefs of the gods on the limestone walls and grinned to himself. The sun seemed more welcoming, the trees greener and more inviting and the desert around them less foreboding than yesterday.

"You've done nothing but bitch about this place since we left Memphis and now you delay us leaving to speak about _religion_?" Alexander sounded incredulous and Hephaestion didn't blame him.

Hephaestion leaned over and pecked a kiss on his king's lips, amazing everyone, Alexander included. Hephaestion normally did not show public affection. "Then indulge me and mount your horse so we can get out of here!"

"I'll find out what's wrong with you later," Alexander told him, doing as he was bid.

"I doubt it!" Hephaestion told him cheerfully. "Not unless you tell me why you want to leave faster than I do." Alexander looked closely at him and then shook his head. Alexander would not reveal what he had been told in the temple and Hephaestion wouldn't either. Besides, Hephaestion didn't think Alexander would take kindly to the idea that the Great God spoke to Hephaestion directly and not to him. He could be prickly about little details like that.

As the group cantered out of the oasis, Hephaestion turned to Alexander, "Do you know who Ptah is?" Alexander shook his head, eyeing Hephaestion's cheerful countenance warily. "He's the god of builders and craftsmen."

"Oh?" Alexander apparently had no clue where Hephaestion was leading. 

Hephaestion grinned. "Yes, and since I like to build things on occasion, when you let me, I think I need someone on my side to make you let me build more often. I do believe I'll petition this god when we get back to Memphis. What say you?"  
Alexander's expression clearly said that he thought Hephaestion had lost his mind, but he refrained from saying so. "That sounds ... good."

Hephaestion nodded and leaned over to tousle Alexander's gilt-gold hair. "You're more like Re than Amun, you know. You both shine like the sun."

Alexander continued to stare at his friend. "What is wrong with you?" 

"Siwah is not such a bad place after all, Alexander. Yes, I do believe it's a nice place once you get there alive." He laughed at Alexander's incredulous look. "Yes, a very powerful oracle, highly worthy of the respect it's given."

"Right. Certainly. Someone get Hephaestion some water! He's baked his head!" Hephaestion laughed, ignoring the odd looks from his companions. The trip hadn't been wasted, wasn't ruinous, but he couldn't tell them so.

A god had spoken to him, told him his reason to be, and Hephaestion knew that the responsibility placed on his shoulders by the Great One would be heavy burden to bear. He would bear it though, not only because he'd been commanded to do so, but also because it was what he wanted, what he desired. And it happened to coincide with the desires and wants of a god. Whatever the path, whatever the journey, Hephaestion would do it.

The god spoke and it would be done.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written back in 2006 when I was part of an Alexander the Great fandom. At the time I wrote most of my slash under the name Bagoas Alexandros. I majored in ancient/medieval history, focusing my interest on Alexander the Great and his successors. But I've always had a soft spot for ancient Egypt since my elementary school days. I finally decided to post this to AO3 as it hasn't seen the light of day since shortly after the century changed. LOL!


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